


Love on Me

by cowboykylux



Series: Our Hill of Stars (Ancient Emperor Kylo Ren AU) [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient History, Come Eating, Come as Lube, Concubine Reader, Cunnilingus, Emperor Kylo Ren, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Pregnancy, Public Claiming, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Reader is a Goddess, Ritual Public Sex, Ritual Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: It is the last day of the harvest festival, the day that the entire empire has been looking forward to, and as soon as the sun disappears beyond the ocean horizon, they will get the show they have been waiting for. Nine days of feasting, of grand parties, of sweat-slick orgies citywide, and it all comes down to this, this final act of consummation to officially begin the harvest season. With reverent hands, Kylo kneels before the altar, the shrine, in the temple.Your shrine, in your temple.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Series: Our Hill of Stars (Ancient Emperor Kylo Ren AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797154
Comments: 14
Kudos: 102





	Love on Me

It’s golden, in the temple. He is the only one alone now, although he has been there all day, has shut himself away and has laid his palms bare before the goddesses above. His loyal subjects have done the same, have filled this space with flowers, with fruit, with bread, with the bounty of the goddess’ blessings, have kneeled and prayed themselves hoarse through the course of the day. But now, the sun is setting, and as it smooths across the sky it shines a buttery light thick over the land, the kingdom, the empire.

Kylo’s empire.

It is the last day of the harvest festival, the day that the entire empire has been looking forward to, and as soon as the sun disappears beyond the ocean horizon, they will get the show they have been waiting for. Nine days of feasting, of grand parties, of sweat-slick orgies citywide, and it all comes down to this, this final act of consummation to officially begin the harvest season. With reverent hands, Kylo kneels before the altar, the shrine, in the temple.

Your shrine, in your temple.

He prays, eyes closed and head bowed, prays to the goddess of the harvest, to the goddess of fertility. He prays that this festival might please them, that the worship might catch their attention, might make them look favorably down upon the empire. It is imperative that this goes well, or else the festival will all be for naught.

Kylo was granted the vision in a dream, a great and glorious dream one evening many moons ago. In it, the goddesses stepped forth from the stars and called out to him, gave him the instructions for how to appease them, what he must do in order to secure prosperity for his people. The instructions were clear, and as he awoke in a cold sweat in your bed, he immediately roused you to speak them to you, but you already knew. It seemed as though the goddesses had told you both in the same dream, a dream which neither of you were willing to ignore.

And this is how Kylo finds himself here, before your shrine which is so populated with offerings that he can barely see you, for your statue is almost buried in piles and piles of gifts. Cuts of wheat and leavened bread, grapes and apples and pears, rich citrus fruits like oranges and limes, cherries and strawberries among fig leaves and vines, and a multitude of flowers, beautiful and blooming.

This is how Kylo finds himself, half naked and kneeling, head touching the marble floors as he chants and whispers prayers, asks the goddesses to hear him, hear his pleas for fertile subjects, fertile lands, prosperous wealth and a bountiful harvest.

In his prayers, he can hear the parade ascending the mountain where your temple is built. It sits atop the highest peak in access to the Nabooian people, and they are making the journey up the many many steps carved out of the middle of the stone, so that they might bare witness to this ritual.

Kylo stands then, for the sun is beginning to set quicker, the sky turning from a blazing orange gold, to a softer orange pink, the hint of purples and blues creeping around the edges of the horizon. His ceremonial trousers jingle slightly as he walks through the temple straight down towards the entrance. He is in deep rich red robes, the edged trimmed with gold rope coils and beads made from diamonds. He wears only these and a sash which holds it against his skin, his torso and arms completely bare.

He passes a large ceremonial bed, which has been placed in the center of the temple so that all who come may get a good view of the ritual. It is covered in lush cushions and soft sheets, plush pillows filled with downy feathers, that Kylo might prop underneath your hips when he comes inside you. He passes this bed and makes his way to the entrance, where he stands and waits.

The parade is close, he can hear the procession much more clearly now. What the goddesses had demanded in the dream, Kylo has made a reality. First are the acrobats and the gymnasts, who cartwheel and jump and skip with long ribbons in their hands, moving in formations that took months to rehearse. Following them are rows and rows of musicians who beat their drums and blow their trumpets to a steady march as dancers twirl and move around them, their red dresses flowing with every step.

Behind the musicians and dancers come the military guard, fifty soldiers atop white stallions all dressed in red and gold ceremonial armor, which is polished so brightly that Kylo can see the glint of the setting sun reflected off of the breastplates. They are led by Captain Phasma, head of the military and Kylo’s dear friend, up the mountain.

Then there is Goliath, of course. She is decorated with golden earrings and her collar is even more impressive for this ritual. She stalks behind the military, prowling and snarling, roaring performatively. She likes being the center of attention, likes baring her teeth for all to see how sharp they have grown. She protects you always, and she protects you now, for close behind Goliath are the six chosen warriors which have been given the honor to carry you through the streets.

You are reclined on a cushioned couch, your body thinly veiled by red silk so sheer that it looks as though you’re not wearing anything at all. Of all the sights, of all the display of this power of his empire, you are always the most gorgeous, the most impressive. Behind you, finally, is the entirety of the kingdom.

Some will be so lucky as to fit inside the temple and watch, but the rest will not. They will sit outside, crowd against the temple walls, stand on the steps in the mountainside, line the streets as they do their duty in bearing witness to this ritual.

As the parade comes ever closer, the temple begins to fill. The acrobats stop cartwheeling, the musicians change their tune, the dancers line the perimeter of the temple floor, the military dismount their horses and climb the steps and wait on the third story of the temple, looking down over the railings to ensure no danger will befall you. Goliath gives Kylo a deadly glare as if a warning that if he hurts you, he’ll be a dead man, before lowering her head and allowing him to scritch just behind her ears. If tigers could purr, Kylo thinks, she would.

And then – then then then there’s you. You, in your divine beauty, you, your body which glows like the sun itself, atop a cushioned couch that is carried up the steps of the temple. You are wearing nothing but a ceremonial skirt, a thin scrap of fabric which is slung low on your hips. You are completely covered in golden body chains, arm bands, bracelets and rings, and Nabooian pearls drip off of nearly every piece. Your face is covered by the red veil, but he can still see you, and oh how he is breathless at the sight.

Kylo doesn’t allow your feet to touch the ground when the couch is put down. He picks you up and carries you to the altar, and as he turns to enter the temple once again, all the loyal subjects which have followed the parade do as well. They cram in as much as they can, lovers seating one another atop their laps so that there might be more room for as many people as possible.

The drummers begin then, a slow and steady rhythm. This drumming is unlike that of the parade, which was festive and fun – no, no this is serious, this is important, this cannot be fucked up in any way shape or form, lest the harvest will fail and many will perish.

“Ready?” You ask him, voice barely above a whisper so that only he may hear you, and he nods.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” Kylo replies, as he lifts the veil from your face, revealing you to the goddesses above.

He unclasps the piece of fabric which provides you any semblance of modesty. You in turn, untie the sash which holds up his ceremonial trousers, the both of you bare to one another before the altar. Stepping before the altar together, you hold your hands and kneel, press your foreheads to the floor and send prayers as loudly and as hopefully as you can, up to the goddesses.

_Bless us, o Goddesses above, hear our pleas._

_Bless us, o Goddesses above, recognize our efforts._

_We thank you for the fields in which we till, for the seeds which we plant, for the fruit which we eat._

_We thank you for the children which grow healthy, the mothers who live to rear them._

_We ask for this once again, we come before you and we ask for these blessings._

_Bless us, o Goddesses above, with these gifts – fertile soil, fertile subjects, prosperous wealth and bountiful harvest._

Kylo’s subjects begin to chant then, in the ancient tongue reserved for such rituals, such occasions as this. The sun has gone down entirely now, bathing the temple in the moonlight and the glow of a thousand candles which have been lit earlier in the day.

You and Kylo rise, turning towards one another and smearing sacred oils across one another’s body, slicking each other up so that neither of you may chafe or grow sore from the long night of sex that’s about to happen. You smile, for Kylo’s hands are shaking as he cups your breasts, rubs oil across your nipples, and then carries you once again.

He leads you to the bed in the middle of the temple, lays you down upon the sheets and climbs up after.

Your legs part easily for him, settling yourself on your back on the bed. It is comfortable, you sigh out happily and Kylo’s heart soars. He did well, he has pleased you in this small way, and that will surely please the goddesses, for they act through you. He wants to provide for you in all things, as you provide for him, for his people.

He pushes your knees aside and kisses down from your knee to your inner thigh, hot wet kisses which suck harsh bruises into the flesh there. He builds this path with his teeth and tongue on both your legs, until he takes a deep breath and shoves his face against your pussy.

Immediately, your hands twist in the sheets, and your legs flatten down against the cushions which surround you. Kylo drinks down your juices, lets your slick run in rivulets down his chin as he eats your pussy well, eats it right. He drinks from the well of your body, directly pulls the wealth out of your pussy, sweet and golden and all for him.

“Oh!” You moan loud loud loud, and the audience jumps, claps once, the sound of thousands of feet landing upon the temple floors a boom like thunder in the night – they will get the goddesses attention this evening, if it is the last thing they do.

The dancers begin to move on the temple floor. They do not dare come any closer than a step away from the walls, do not dare interrupt or invade your space, but they are overcome with the awe inspiring power of the goddesses which flow through you, and as you moan again, the audience jumps again, begins to stamp their feet in time with the drums which beat steady.

“Kylo – yes! Yes, oh yes!” You gasp high and breathy, and with each noise that spills from your lips, the entire kingdom chants, they clap, they stomp their feet and rumble the earth. Even those outside the temple, even those down the mountain, in the city, they all move in time, all participating in this ritual.

Kylo’s tongue plunges into your cunt and he rubs at your walls with the thick tip of it, his nose pressing against your clit. He shakes his head back and forth, rub rub rubbing your pussy with his lips, his goatee scratching up your inner thighs, and you cry out your first orgasm of the evening.

When you come, the drums seem to beat louder, as your mouth drops open and your eyes shut tight. The light from the candles seem to blaze brighter, as those standing in the temple link arms with people next to them and sway and stomp their feet in time.

Kylo needs to coax two more orgasms from you before all these citizens, before these goddesses, and he does not waste time.

“Kylo – Kylo I want more, give me more.” You command even as your chest heaves, as your lungs gulp down as much air as they can.

He pulls back enough to rest his cheek upon your thigh, and instead of his tongue now fills you with his fingers. You are relaxed enough that he can push three in with no problem, you take them easily, you moan out loud, and like thunder, the audience claps.

“Yes! Oh yes, faster, harder, more more more,” You plead, you order, you demand.

He fingers you open, fingers you good and long, the sound of your come pushing around his fingers and fucking back into you is intoxicating, the smell of your body covered in the oils and Kylo’s own pheromones drives him insane.

He lowers his mouth back down to your pussy while he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, sucks on your clit good and hard, until you cry out a second orgasm, let it shatter through you, your thighs trembling, knees turning inward.

But he’s not done with you yet, not yet, so he pulls you and pushes you around, so that he can bend your legs up over his head, so that he can get into you deeper, in a new angle that has you sobbing loud. Your cries spill down your cheeks in hot tears, and the audience jumps to the sound of it, earth rumbling beneath your feet, buildings rattling as you take four of his big thick fingers, harder rougher fast fast faster, chest heaving, nipples so stiff as Kylo bends down to suck on them, to pull them hard between his teeth.

“Kylo!!” You scream, your third orgasm comes quickly after you’re so blissed out from the first two, and your body convulses at being pushed to a third.

It is while your body is wrecked with orgasm, that Kylo carefully, quickly rearranges your legs once again so that he can push his cock into your waiting pussy. It is spasming around him and clenching down hard, and you wail out in pleasure as he fills you so wholly, so completely.

“Oh stars, stars (Y/N) – oh!” His voice booms out through the temple, and now the audience shifts from clapping their hands to rubbing their palms together, and this makes it sound like thick sheets of rain, as hundreds of hands slide together.

He fucks you on your back like this for a while, nothing fancy, nothing elaborate, just long and hard and hot and heavy. He bends himself over and suckles at your breasts, bites deep dark crescent shapes into your flesh – not just on your breasts, but your upper arms, your rib cage, your stomach. He covers you in them, laves his tongue over them as his cock pounds into you, draws out the most wanton and passionate noises from you.

The first time he comes, he groans through it, hips stuttering still against you, spilling into your wanting pussy. He grunts out your name, and the sound of rain cascades all around him, though it is a product of the audience, and not real water, he knows.

But maybe, maybe the goddesses will bless you both with rains this evening. The temple ceiling is cut away just above the bed, this is why it is positioned in this particular spot in the middle of the temple. Perhaps if they hear you, they will let it rain and the harvest will be exponentially strong and fruitful this year.

With shaking hands and sweat slipping down his body, his arms and his legs puddling and beading in the pit of your throat, he reaches for fruit which has been placed on the bed. He eats it and regains his strength, his stamina, and he feeds it to you in turn, feeds you as his hips push his come deeper inside your cunt.

He is still hard, he must come two more times tonight before the ritual can be complete, so he down the food and lets the fuel fill him as he slides out of your fluttering pussy only long enough to roll you over onto your stomach.

“Ahh – oh! Oh yes, Kylo, please, don’t stop, don’t ever stop – !” You chant, beg, plead as he fucks you from behind, as the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the air.

With each of your moans they jump and clap, with each of his, they wisp their hands together, the drummers drum and the dancers dance, and they all chant chant chant deep in their throats, low hums which fill your skull with the pleasant buzz of noise.

“Please please please!!” You’re sobbing so loud that Kylo nearly worries for you, worries that he’s hurting you or causing you distress, but every time he pulls away to check, you reach behind yourself and grasp his wrist, grasp his hip and push yourself right back onto his cock, desperate and wild for more.

Your toes curl in the sheets and your back arches so that your ass is in the air, your shoulders pressed down down down against the mattress as you drool into the pillow.

Kylo grunts and groans and snaps his hips hard and fast, chasing his second orgasm. A loud yell tears itself through his throat when he reaches it, when that white hot ball of pleasure bursts through you, when he cannot contain how _good_ it feels, how transcendent.

But he cannot revel in it for long, no, for he must come a third time and the ritual is complete. He reaches over for a jug filled with sweet juices, guzzles it down and tries not to choke. Something in the fruit and in the juice acts as a means to keep his cock hard, though by now it is throbbing and pulsing, dumping come into your cunt with wild abandon. He makes you drink too, so that you might be strong, as he rolls underneath you onto his back.

“R-ready?” He asks, as you straddle his hip, your entire body loose and pliant, shaking shaking shaking as thick tears make tracks down your cheeks.

“Yes, please, please Kylo, one more I need it, I want it.” You nod, eyes clear and present even though you’re fucked out of your mind.

Your legs settle around his sides and you ride him, bouncing on his cock. This is the final time, the last round of the ritual. He splays his hands across your breasts and holds them so that your jewelry might not accidentally hurt you from the effort, and he groans out loud, shouts his moans up towards the heavens.

The drums beat beat beat, and the audience stamps their feet and claps and whooshes their hands, a storm with no water, thunder with no lightning. Your throat is open and moans spill out, his name hot on your tongue as you rock your body onto his cock.

“Yes! Yes oh – right there, right there – harder, fuck me harder!” Your head tips back and your hair cascades down your back, all your jewelry glowing in the light of the candles, the room so hot, smelling so strongly of your sex, of the perfume you were bathed in. You cry cry cry on his cock, desperate for more and overwhelmed, overstimulated at the same time.

Your pussy has never been so filled, as it is when he comes into you for the third time of the evening. It is dripping everywhere, sloshing down your thighs in big sticky ropes, thick and viscous and making such obscene noises that Kylo’s cock throbs and pulses out another load just because he can’t help it.

He quickly rolls you onto your back and pulls your legs up, shoves some of the pillows underneath your hips so that you can remain propped up, so that anything that can’t fit doesn’t get lost. He needs every single drop inside of you to appease the goddesses, to appease you.

He then rubs your clit so hard and fast that you scream out one final orgasm, scream out _Kylo!!_ – and lightning strikes across the sky, read and bright, electric in the evening sky. Thunder cracks and booms, and the skies open up as a torrential downpour drenches the temple, making the drummers crescendo their rhythm, making the audience shout and yell and cheer, all the candles blown out by a strong gust of wind, as rain soaks the ceremonial bed.

“They’ve heard us.” You grin, manic with your eyes too bright.

The rain is not cold, no, it is warm and welcoming, and Kylo presses soft kisses all across your face in the dark as the audience continues to cheer and cheer. They all slowly begin to file out of the temple, off to dance in the rain, to bask in the glory of the goddesses who have blessed them with the promise of a successful harvest season.

You and Kylo laugh against one another’s lips, completely caught up in your own bubble, as Kylo lifts wet fruits to your lips and feeds you once again, joy sparking through his veins like the lightning which crackles in magnificent streaks across the sky.

“You did it my Emperor.” You grin at him, grasp his face in between your hands and kiss him there in the rain, kiss him as you close your eyes against the downpour as it shallowly floods the temple.

“No, no my blossom, we did it together.” Kylo grins back, kisses you and lets himself be kissed, elated, and so in love.

When the last of the audience has gone, and all the musicians and soldiers and even Goliath herself have left, the temple doors are sealed shut, and the rain moves west, down across the city towards the fields which will drink up the water and use it to grow luscious crops.

“We must do this every year,” You say, your eyes bright, little droplets clinging to your lashes as the pitter patter of rain fades from the temple, “Every year as they demand it, we must do it.”

“It would be an honor.” Kylo agrees. He rubs your stomach, wills it to happen, wills for you to get pregnant. His people will have beautiful and healthy babies, this he knows, but he wants that for you too, wants that for the both of you.

And as you two both look up through the roof of the temple at the stars as they shine brightly, you thank the heavens once again. Exhausted, you move from the soaking wet ceremonial bed, through the temple on shaky legs, legs which can barely hold you up. Come trickles down your thighs but neither you nor Kylo mind, you had been propped up on the pillow for long enough, you’re both sure.

You lead him behind the altar, through a secret passage and into a secret room, where there is a small bed in which he normally lays you down to worship your body. For now, it is enough to curl up against one another in the warm dry sheets, to lay your love down upon one another, and fall into a deep sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of oneshots that will take place in a new AU I'm developing called Our Hill of Stars, in which Kylo Ren is an Emperor and reader is one of his concubines who also happens to be the conduit for the goddesses of harvest and fertility. I hope you enjoyed this story and please check out my blog @babbushka on tumblr for more of the AU if you're interested!


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